Carter's Snookered, Chosen Hearts Series S7
by HDorothy
Summary: A missing scene Jack deals with a drunken Carter and discovers he’s still her safe bet.


Title: Carter's Snookered - Chosen Hearts Series – S7 - 715

Author: HDorothy aka HailDorothy

Category: Angst/humor/Romance

Warnings: Some sexual content

Pairing: Jack/Sam

Season: S7

Spoilers: 712-Evolution Part 1& 2, 713-Grace, 714-Chimera, 715-Death Knell

Rating: T

Story Summary: A missing scene - Jack deals with a drunken Carter and discovers he's still her safe bet.

File Size: 96KB

Archived: Jackfic, GateWorld, Heliopolis, SamandJack, FanFiction

Author's Note: Read '_Carter's Humming,'_ before '_Carter's Snookered._

Series Summary: Thisis an established storyline in which Jack and Sam fell in love during Jack's retirement. When Jack is re-commissioned and Sam inadvertently assigned his subordinate, they pretend to be strangers and put their wannabe lovers relationship on hold. Little do they realize it will not be a matter of months, but years, before they can follow through on the desire of their chosen hearts.

Disclaimer: All publicity recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This series may include script excerpts from the TV Series Stargate SG-1. Said author is not acquiring profit for the work of said fiction. This fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Copyright: The original characters, situations, and story are the property of said author, HailDorothy 2004 ©.

Special thanks to: My beta Carol Sue you make my words shimmer like Jack's stars.

And thank you, Lord Jesus, for bequeathing me the gift of the bards.

Feedback: Gosh, darn, don't make me beg! Pretty Please? Starvation of this writer's muse is no pleasant sight. All feedback is food for thought and well digested. "Feed me, Seymour!" (The Little Shop of Horrors)

_**Friday: 0255 Hours: O'Malley's Bar and Grill**_

The outside display lights at O'Malley's Bar and Grill had been off nearly an hour. Driving into the empty parking lot, Jack recognized the blue Volvo beside Jim's Buick. He turned off the ignition and dragged a hand over his day old beard. He should have shaved before leaving the house, but he'd left so fast, he was barefoot in his loafers. Luckily he'd grabbed his billfold as he ran out the door. Stifling a yawn, he tucked his black t-shirt into his unbelted jeans and glanced in the overhead mirror. Not that it mattered a hill of beans, how he looked at 0255, he swiped a comb through his gray bed head. When the short tuffs remained on end, he reached for his black knit cap and yanked it over his head, passed his eyebrows. Better.

Locking his truck Jack inhaled the crisp Colorado air. He wasn't sure what he would find inside, but Jim insisted it was serious. He'd been tempted to call Daniel and Teal'c and let them handle the situation. They would have come in a heartbeat. But as CO it was Jack's responsibility to keep abreast of any individual issues that could affect the team's field performance. His gut instinct told him this qualified. Shoving his personal feelings into his back pocket, he sprinted to the backdoor and pushed the service bell.

A moment later, the owner, Jim O'Malley unlocked the door and let him inside. "Glad you came, Jack." He shuffled ahead through the long stainless steel equipped kitchen. Jack noted the rest of the staff had left. He wanted to move faster than the elderly man, but with firsthand experience on joint pain, he respectively gagged his longer strides.

Knowing Jim the yapper, he expected a full replay and nearly got one when he asked, "She alright?"

"Yeah, considering I cut her off two hours back, but she's nursing the same beer. I tried to get her to drink coffee, call a cab. She refused. And you know Sam, when she says no. It's no."

"Sure." He knew all right.

"Never seen her this way before, Jack, she's moody, laughing, crying, even tossed a few pool balls around."

"Any damage?" Jack grimaced.

"Nah. She's too wasted to hit the broad side of a barn. To give it to ya straight, your little major is snookered out of her gourd. Butt-stinking drunk."

Jack shrugged. This would be a first. He'd seen Sam tipsy and downright feeling no pain, but never butt-stinking drunk. They entered the softly lit dining area and Jim gestured to what had long been labeled their SGC corner.

That's when he heard the '_song.'_ He glanced at Jim and winced.

"_I know it's been sometime, but there's something on my mind You see I haven't been the same, since the cold November day. We said we needed space, but all we found was empty place . . ." _

"Yeah, she's been playing it since she arrived, drove most of my patrons nuts. But she put fifty bucks on the bar for me to keep playing it. So what the hey?"

"Sorry, Jim." Jack sniffed and shook his head in regret.

"Hey, it's a bittersweet love song, sort of fits a couple I know."

Yeah, sure does, Jack thought but said nothing. He didn't have to. Since the first time he and Sam had frequented the place with Daniel and Charles Kowalsky over seven years, Jim saw the sparks between them. When Jack had requested the CD for the jut box, Jim didn't questioned why.

A Vietnam vet, former Air Force Captain Jim O'Malley was a hopeless romantic. He'd never once broken the confidences he'd witnessed or shared between them. Likewise the incident tonight, would never leave these walls. Jack knew there was a special place in Heaven awaiting the saintly old man.

"Soon as I'm done cleaning up, I'll help ya haul her to your truck."

Jack nodded and approached the booth opposite the pool table.

A walking cane leaned against the booth. At least she had obeyed Janet and wasn't taxing her injured leg. He refocused on the slender blond slouched against the wall. He noticed how pale she looked, and with Carter's fair complexion, that wasn't good. A faint red scar tracked her forehead from her encounter with Anubis' drone. Fortunately her cheek had healed flawlessly. He knew she had a slight limp from her leg injury. God willing that too would disappear with physical therapy.

Her short blond hair askew, gray-blue eyes shut, she'd managed to grip a beer bottle in her lap. He eyeballed the dozen or more empty bottles and eight shot glasses. Had Carter actually consumed that much booze? Heck, even at his best, Jack would have barely managed. Although he confessed he'd come close a few months back, after he'd learned about Pete in the elevator. That was another sore memory. According to Jim, Sam out-drank three other regulars before she passed out, even won three games of pool snookered. That he did believe. Which meant had she wanted to do damage with those pool balls she would have.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, Jack plopped down in the bench and slid in beside her. Crap! This had to be his fault. Everything else was. Worse, why hadn't he seen it coming? He was a lousy CO. She was still on downtime to recover from her injury from Anubis' drone assassin at the Alpha Site. It had been one of the most frightening search and rescue mission's of Jack's career. He'd never prayed so hard in his life. But they'd found her in time and he'd spent the walk back to the gate, babbling to an unconscious Carter about how much he loved her. Problem was she never heard. Although Teal'c heard ever word, bless his faithful Jaffa heart.

With her leg injury, Sam needed to stay off her feet, so Janet put Sam on six-week downtime. Well other than a few team meetings and barbecues, Jack hadn't seen her. He assumed she was with Pete or visiting her brother Mark. Okay, so he'd been wrong. Again.

"For crying out loud, Dorothy, why'd ya do this?" With gentleness reserved for Sam and children, he caressed her tearstained cheek. Samantha Carter stirred and opened her weighty liquid eyes and squinted. Jack lowered his hand. It took a few seconds before she focused on him and did a cherub smile.

"Sirr?" followed by a belch and giggle.

Jack managed not to inhale.

"Yeah, Carter, I'm here." He removed the bottle from her hand and set it out of her reach.

"Hey, I knew ya'd come, sirr. Ya always du."

_Yeah wasn't that the mother loving truth._ "Let's get you home, Major."

"Na-ah." She mimicked his pat O'Neill finger waggle that crashed and burned in her lap. "Gonna stay right here and get pissin' drunk, Sirrsrs."

"You're already pissing drunk, Carter." He reached to extract her from the booth, but she shoved him off. The strong little drunk.

"Nooo 'mm not."

"Carter." He glared.

"I'll know when I'm pissin' drunk, sirr."

"And when will that be?" He sighed, feeling hopelessly inept.

"When I canna see 'em anymore."

"See who?" He exchanged an appreciative look with Jim who collected her empty bottles, wiped down the table with a wet cloth and left.

"Doncha see 'em?" She flapped a limp hand and smacked Jack in the forehead.

He caught her hand on the downswing and held tight.

"Who, Carter?" He rubbed his thumb over her limp fingers, discovering how fragile and cold they were. _Crap! Get a grip. Act as if she's Daniel. Yeah! Well, that's not the best example. Daniel's my buddy, best friend._ _I'd be hurting the same, seeing him in this condition. Thankfully, Teal'c doesn't drink. Still, I must stay detached, but concerned like a CO. Nothing more. Yeah, like that was going to happen._

When Sam tried to sit upright her head bounced like a bobble head toy. "All the mennn includnng . . ." She snorted and held up a hand, attempting to count off, "Jonas Hanson, Martouf, Narim, Orlin, Joe—"

"Joe?" Jack hadn't a clue who that sap was.

"Don't know . . . a memory." She shrugged.

"Oh." Jack sniffed. Yeah she was snookered.

"All o'em tried to love me, but I either left them behind, zatted or kicked their sorree ass's out o' my life." She belched.

Jack maybe wasn't dead, but he qualified for the kicked ass category.

"Yep, Even Jonah." Her eyes misted and she touched Jack's face.

That last name was not expected. His gaze locked with hers. Sam stunned him when she leaned in and pressed her dry lips against his. It was brief but enough to shake him even after she'd pulled back.

"E'en when Jonah said he had," she belched, "feelings for me, I mistreated him."

"You did?" Jack raked his brain on that old memory, coming up blank on her remark.

She nodded loosely. "Yep, Thera had her head on ur shoulder, a really nizze shoulder." Sam twisted in the bench and imitated the scene, which would have been cute had she not been inebriated. Nuzzling up to him, she sighed and said soberly, "Except we were on the cold floor leanin' against bars and coz his knees were raised, no one saw him gripping my arm. . . . We held hands and then—kissed." Sam sighed, "Passionately."

Oh, yeah, that he remembered. Before he could stop, he crossed his arms and his right hand slipped over hers.

Sam snuggled closer. "We were memberrin who wee were."

Jack revisited that memory. "Would it mean anything if I told you I remember something else?" Man what was he doing!

"Whaat?"

"Feelings."

"Feelinzzs?"

"I remember feeling—feelings." Boy did he ever and they were as fresh as an open wound.

Sam smiled. "For me?" She acted way too sober.

"No, for Thor." Had he actually said that? Oh duh!

Sam giggled and nestled closer, her cold fingers gripping his warm ones tighter. Despite the memory replay, Jack smiled down at her and continued best he could. "I don't remember much, but I do remember that."

"Sooo—"

"So— I'm just saying." He glanced at her.

"Well, then I feel better." She pressed her head tighter against him.

Jack's heart tripped. Drunk or not, Sam on his shoulder reliving a trip down memory lane was not what this CO on the fringe needed. He let go of her hand and straightened up trying to bring him with her. He cleared his throat, wishing he had called Daniel.

"Feel better!" She snorted. "What kind of romantic comeback was that?"

"We were confused, Carter."

"Not about us, we weren't. Jonah said how he felt for Thera. She held back just like Samantha." Sam looked into his eyes with a longing he'd not seen in awhile. "But when u took me in u're arms and kissed me, Jack, I felt I was home . . . we were lovers and that night together was . . ."

"We did not make love, Carter." Jack insisted.

"Could have, would have, should have . . ."

Jack sucked air. Yeah, they sure would have if Brenna hadn't ordered them and Daniel to her office and revealed their true identities. He felt angered that he was always the one to acknowledge how he felt for her. Why couldn't she do the same sober?

"I wish we had, Jack." She looked up through her glazed eyes. "Do u?" She reached out and touched his blue-shadowed jaw.

"This isn't the time or place, Carter." He snatched her hand and held it for a moment, wanting to kiss her icy fingers, to warm them with his lips.

"But instead it was 'sir and Major'. I lost u again, like I've lost u now. "

"You never lost me, Carter. You chose someone else. His name's Petty, remember?"

Gripping her shoulders, Jack eased her away and took a breath to get his bearings. He saw the regret in her face and shuddered as the memories of their mind stamp on an ice planet came flooding back. Yeah, he'd been Jonah. Still was. During that mission Jack's feelings for Sam were acted upon through a man who had never existed. He knew they shouldn't revisit that memory. Furthermore, Sam was drunk. Were she sober this conversation would not be happening. Heck, she'd be in bed with Pete.

"Carter, I wasn't anymore Jonah than you were Thera." _'Sure lie again, O'Neill.' _

"But the feelings were ours. I just wished I'd said what u'd wanted to hear, what I wanted to say. That I—."

"Let it go, Carter." Why did she have to be drunk to realize what had been so freaking obvious to him all these years?

"But sometimes I wish they were, we were—"

"We aren't them," he snapped in his gruff CO voice and held her liquid gaze.

Sam looked at him, her unsteady eyes glassy from too much booze and emotions. Before he could recover she came full circle. "Know what they call me?"

Jack groaned. So was that what this was about? Still, it probably wouldn't hurt for her to talk it out. "No, Sam, what do they call you?"

"The black widow spider." She snickered. "Yep, I seduce 'em, suck the life out o' 'em, then spit them out . . . sirr." She closed her eyes and slumped against his shoulder. "Even my last victim, Pete, who u think's petty." She snickered. "So do I."

Drawing his arm around her, Jack's blood pressure soared. He'd heard a few remarks second hand and thought he had had squashed them O'Neill fashion. And Teal'c, bless his Jaffa heart, had scared the crap out of one the gossiping culprits who, in turn, asked for reassignment. Daniel also implemented his big brother act and shut up two of the nurses in the infirmary last week. By now anyone with half a brain knew that if O'Neill discovered who had started the black widow rumor they'd be sucking through a straw the rest of their lives.

"Now, u're the only one left, I havena killed . . . " she mumbled into the sleeve of his leather coat.

"Sure, Sam." Truth was that's exactly how he felt, left outside looking in, not allowed to be part of Samantha Carter's private world. Being one of her victims had to be better than nothing. His choice. Not hers. Yeah, he could blame Carter all he wanted, but he'd seen the wall coming down between them before he went to Honduras to rescue Daniel. Little things only lovers notice. She'd spent more downtime with her brother Mark, which would have been fine, except she wasn't with Jack. He'd always come first. Twice she'd left without a goodbye. There had been less teasing and flirting. Off world Sam remained ultra-professional even when he gave their private signal that she didn't have to. At such times, she talked more with Teal'c and Daniel than with him. The biggest changes came during their private times, in their base 'Room' and the park on Earth. They'd become fewer, shorter and less intimate.

After the last Prometheus incident, four months back he'd unconsciously set her free during an argument with Daniel. Sometimes, he wondered if she'd heard them but if she had, then she'd also have heard how selfishly he wanted Sam to spend her life with him.

Ironically, a few days later off world he told Sam to get a life, find the happiness she deserved. Pride coming before the fall, Jack stubbornly stuck to his verbal conviction, even became an insufferable ass to make sure she followed through. She had. His name was Pete Shanahan and Sam appeared happy. So what had brought this drunken stupor about? More importantly why hadn't she realized Jack meant for her to get a life with him, not some Irish cop. And why for crying out loud, was that freaking song still playing?

He eyeballed Jim when he walked by and nodded at the jut box. Jim understood and a moment later the music stopped.

"Hey," Sam lifted her head. "R lonely heart song's done."

"Yeah it did, Carter." Jack prayed for patience.

"Shouldna o' left it in the room—, sirss, needed space got an empty place here." She clumsily patted his chest then hers.

His heart pained by the truth of her words, Jack almost lost it. Crap! Get a grip, O'Neill. Once again he reminded himself, Sam was three-sheets to the wind. Drunk.

"U're my safe bet, sirss." She snuggled and hugged his arm.

"Yeah, that's me all right." He frowned and noted Jim had his coat on and was approaching. "Okay, Major, time to go home and go beddy-bye."

"U'r place or mine?" she snorted.

He wondered if he should drive her back to the SGC and hand her over to a female SF and have her deposited in her quarters. However act could feed the gossipmongers and he didn't want anyone else to see Major Carter in her alcohol sodden state.

No resistance came when he eased her out of the booth and to her feet, well almost. Holding her upright, he reached into his jean pocket and asked Jimmy, "What's the tab?"

Grabbing Sam's cane, Jim waved him off. "Nothing. She paid the first four rounds, after that the losers paid."

Jack smirked and shoved a hundred dollar bill into the man's hand. "Thanks, Jim, consider this gratuity for all past, present and future NORAD Team incidents."

"Not necessary, Jack." Jim shoved it back, but Jack shook his head no.

"Okay, but you guys are always welcome. I just hope she'll be all right."

"Me too." Jack glanced at his dozing, drooling major.

Jim nodded and opened doors while Jack carried her out and poured her into his truck.

Windows wide open to help clear her head the ride to Carter's house was pretty uneventful and cold. Although depending on your definition of entertainment it was also memorable. She'd doze, snore, then wake with a jolt and sing, well more like slur, "I'm singin' inthe rain . . .jussinging in rain . . ." then pass out cold.

On her third attempt to sing, she nudged him. "Hey, know what my favor flic iz?"

Jack grinned. Oh, yeah he knew. He knew more about Carter than he had a right to but went along with her. "No, Carter, what's your favorite movie?"

"I jussung it." She winked at him.

"Very good." He felt like a teacher complimenting a grade school student who just gave the right answer.

"U like GeneKeelle?" She leaned in front of him blocking his view of the road.

"Sure do." He eased her back into her seat with his right hand. "We had an all day Gene Kelly marathon at my house." He reminded her.

"Yep." She caught his hand and held on. "Thawasss nicce." Then she snorted a laugh. "Daniel was sooo funny . . dancen on Ur table." She yawned and hiccup.

"Yeah and scratched the varnish," he muttered, and slipped free of her hold to shift gears. Tempted as he was to hold her hand, he kept his grip on the steering wheel.

"Pete likes Fredstairr. Hatess Kellee."

Pete! Yeah right. Jack figured that snot-nosed snoop of a cop was the cause for Carter's drunken state somehow. _Wake up call, O'Neill! Just because it's a long distance affair doesn't mean . . .Ah __what the h . . ._

"Fred's okay." He hoped to get to the heart of the matter. He glanced over to see her drunken smirk now replaced by a pitiful look of rejection and he plowed ahead. "I love Kelly, especially when he's dancing in the puddles, singing about how happy he is to be love." Geez, Jack, could you get any sappier? No way! That's a stretch right there, old man. Hey, at least you like Gene Kelly.

Sam turned and looked at him through glassy eyes. "Really, sirrr?"

"Really, Carter."

"Knew that." She laugh-snorted —again.

"Oh and that's funny?" He couldn't believe he was trying to a have serious exchange with her.

"It's funny, coz I told Pete u love Kellee."

"And?"

"He didn't think it funny, coz he doesna like u."

"Like that's a revelation." He rolled his eyes.

"Nope." She let go another laugh-snort that went on longer than humanly possible. Jack stuffed his laughter, but almost failed. Sober, Sam had a beautiful laugh. There was nothing pretty about the honking noise coming out of her. Comically memorable, this was downright, milk through the nose laughter. Oh, what he wouldn't give to have brought his camcorder.

"So how's old Petty?" He took the plunge and patted her left knee.

He heard her sigh and glanced over to find her staring down where his hand absently rested on her knee. He diligently placed his hand on the wheel. _Dumb, dumb and dumber, Jack!_

"Mad at me," she sighed and looked out the window.

"Why?"

"Told him we shouldna date anymore. Just friends now."

'_Oh. Uh. Yesss!'_ "Um, sorry, Sam."

"Don't be," she sounded sober. "Petezz a good guy, juss wan's more than I can give," she mumbled in a hopeless voice, "Course he keepsss callin', comin' 'round."

"Oh." Why didn't that surprise him? Well, if Sam wanted, Jack would be more than happy to set Pete straight.

"Like all the rest, hee wan's more than I am or can bee." She'd turned and although her gaze was glassy and her blonde head wobbled, he sensed she knew what she was saying. "Sirr, u think there's a man who wan's a flawed Samantha Carterrr."

'_I do, Sam!'_ Jack clenched his jaw and hated himself for not being able to say it. Hadn't that been one of the first things they agreed on seven years ago, to not want to change the other. How could she have forgotten? As he parked the truck in front of her house, he answered instead, "Yes, Carter. I definitely do."

For an unmeasured moment they held each other's gaze. Sam's reaction took him off guard when she slanted her head with her pleading Dorothy look. Jack flashed back three years ago to the revealing event on Apophis' ship when face-to-face and waiting to die, he'd seen that same expression. Her head tilted, eyes pleading for him to leave after he'd screamed no! And the unspoken open admittance that they were still hopelessly in love with each other. A breath in time he still clung to, knowing that once, they'd loved each other more than life. The problem was he still did.

Sam's expression took a drastic turn. Holding her stomach she said, "Sirr, I dunna feel good."

"Breathe through it, Carter!" Jack leapt out of his seat and raced around to the passenger side.

She leaned back and inhaled, "Betteer," she said as he opened the door. "Hass anyone told you what a fine tight asss, you have, sirr?" She ogled her CO.

"Not lately, Carter." Exasperated and amused, Jack glanced at his inebriated 2IC who could no longer sit up in the passenger seat even with her seatbelt restraint.

"Well u do," she crossed her eyes at him.

Whoa, he didn't know she could do that, at least not drunk. He reached to unfasten her seatbelt, which meant leaning over her. Which made him an open target.

"Hey!" He leapt clear when her fingers claimed a butt cheek and squeezed. "Na ah! Mustna touch the Colonel's assets," he lectured, removing her hand and placing it back in her lap. He glared her down but with no affect.

"I wanna," she snickered, and trailed a fingertip down his neck.

Jack's libido skidded into over-drive. So did his mouth. "Oh, there's nothing I'd like better. But when and if that ever happens, you're going to be stone sober and not my subordinate." He tried a tactical approach and stretched his long arm for the seatbelt catch.

"Am I snookered, sirr?" She belched, breathing in his face.

Between the putrid of stench beer and garlic chips Jack's stomach did a flip. "Oh, yeah, you're snookered, Carter. Do me a favor and shut your mouth."

"Aye, sirr." She used her hand to push her mouth shut and snickered. The moment the belt snapped lose she toppled into his arms.

"Very snookered," he muttered as he maneuvered her out of the cab and onto his shoulder. He eyed the cane. Nope wouldn't be needing that tonight. Slamming the truck's door, Jack tramped to her yard gate, swung it open and walked up her sidewalk.

"I hate men," she blathered in his ear.

"Could have fooled me," he hoisted her, hoping she'd lay off the heavy breathing as his stomach knotted again. He hoped she had mouthwash.

"But I like you, Jack." Her fingers danced up and down his chest.

_Crap, three sheets to the wind and now I'm Jack. _He got the door and wrestled with one of the spare keys he had for each of his teammates.

She slurred on, "It's the blue one, sirrr." she belched. "Blue for my eyes. Petty likes my eyes. U like my eyes?" Another belch.

Ah . . .huh." Almost to the door and he felt it. Sam's stomach rumbled against his ribs. He didn't have a chance.

She retched—on both of them.

As her puke soaked into his t-shirt and her top, the rancid smell assaulted his nostrils. Gagging, Jack held her at bay. "Shit, Carter!"

She moaned and muttered, "Whoops."

Well at least he'd taken off his jacket. At the door, he leaned her Jell-O like body against the porch wall. Bracing her with one hand, he assessed the damage and gingerly tugged his drenched shirt away from his chest. Glancing over, he saw she wasn't in any better shape. Man, she must have unloaded a gallon.

"Anymore where that came from?"

On cue Sam folded and spewed down his pants and into his loafers.

"Why'd I ask?" He kicked off his shoes and propped her against the exterior wall. When he pulled his hand away and she started to slide southward.

"Geez," he caught her before she toppled and braced his left hand against her shoulder, then cracked open the screen door with his right foot and slipped the key into the security door's lock and turned it.

"U dunna like my eyess," she whined and sniffled.

"Carter!" He couldn't believe she was still on the eye thing.

"Daniel likes my eyess. Sos T, Hammock, Sillar, Davisss . . ."

The door opened and Jack did a quick retrieval of his crumbling major. Scooping her up, he plowed passed the door to the couch, where he deposited her far more gently than she deserved. After which, he adjusted her so not to mess the fabric.

"And Jonass . . ."

"Jonas Quinn!" Jack snarled as he shut the door, locked it, and then opened the front window for fresh air, which he took a moment to inhale.

"Yep," she sighed, "He had a crush on me until that hussy with the Goa'uld came along."

Jack rolled his eyes. Everyone knew Jonas had had a crush on Sam and to be honest he'd been a little concerned, until the every so honest Jonas shared his mind with Jack. A conversation that was well forgettable.

"So what did Jonas say?" Like, he cared.

"That if I wasna already spoken for, he'd have chased me 'round the galaxy until I said yep."

"To what?"

"Why marry 'im, Silly." She hiccupped.

More than he needed to know. Then again. "And so who were you already spoken for?"

Jack held his breath.

She muttered. He leaned closer.

"U . . . ' Sam opened a heavy eye and poked him in the chest. He tried not to smile.

" . . . Stink."

"And you're no bed of roses." Tramping into her bathroom Jack stripped off his vomit drenched t-shirt and jeans and dropped them in a heap outside the door. Stripped down to his skivvies, he couldn't believe he was standing in Carter's bathroom. If Fraiser had been home, he'd have called her. But he'd known in advance that she and Cassandra had gone to Denver for the weekend.

Irish temper barely in check, he flipped on the exhaust fan and marched back to the living room to find his 2IC, snoring. For crying out loud! He snatched her up and carried her to the bathroom, where he perched her against the wall.

"Stay!" He pointed at her like she was a puppy that needed housebreaking.

"Aye, sirr." She made a sloppy salute and giggled. Jack eyed her goofy expression and surmised that although he always said and thought the term giggle, Carter rarely giggled.

However pointless, he still politely asked, "Carter, can you undress yourself?"

"Dunnathinksoo." She burped and swayed, almost sliding down the wall.

"Fine, fine," he muttered and unzipped her snug wet jeans.

Sam squinted as her lethargic gaze traveled from his bare chest, to his Porky Pig boxers. She snorted. "U're naked and cute, sirr."

"I'm not naked, Carter," he said with his gruff bite that didn't faze her.

"Nope, u've got Porky over ur . . ."

"Carter!"

"Sirr, u strippin' mee?"

Yeah, Carter." He thought they'd established that fact.

"Thas good." She snorted when he shimmied her jeans over her slender hips and shapely long legs. His gaze momentarily rested on her bruised, healing thigh that was still puffy and red. Concerned, he traced a finger lightly over what would be another metal of honor on this beautiful woman's body. He wondered if she realized how much he loved her scars, especially as he knew how she'd acquired them.

Sam flinched. "Lot's o' ugly battle scars. Noo longer pretty fer u, Jack."

"You'll always be beautiful, Samantha." He withdrew his touch and hated that he used her Christian name. Too personal too intimate. So, not going there.

"Really?"

"Really." He dared not look into her eyes, dared not let her see how much it pained him when she was injured and hurting. So he returned to his task. When he encountered her dress boots, he hoisted her onto the sink countertop, removed her boots, socks and jeans. At least her hot pink panties weren't soiled. As his hands came in contact with her firm bare butt he freaked and let go. Sam wore a freaking thong! _Think something else, Jack! Yeah. Maybourne naked. Hammond naked. Silar naked. Better. Kinsey naked! Whoa, the last one did the trick. _

Jack set his attention to the job at hand and just where his hand now rested. Crap. Rolling up her short-waist-top he nudged her. "Carter, lift your arms."

Her head lowing against the mirror, she complied, sort of. "So whaat we doing, Jack?"

"It's Colonel O'Neill, Carter. You reek and need a shower." He took a whiff of himself and muttered, "I'm worse!"

"Nice." She smirked and closed her eyes.

"Just peachy." He tugged one arm free and then the next, hoping her bra had been spared. The matching pink bra was drenched. Geez, what was this a freaking test? "Okay, Lord, some heavenly intervention would be nice?"

"U talkin' ta God?"

He glanced at her serious expression. "Yeah, Carter, I am. We've gotten to be pretty good buddies since He dropkicked you into my life."

"Does God play football too?"

Jack opened his mouth then shut it. Another day. Another conversation. Hesitating, he turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature. The room began to fill with steam.

"Okay, let's get this over with?"

She tumbled forward and Jack caught her before she kissed the tile floor. Although, when he noted the exact location of that mole, he looked a little longer than he should have. Man, it was exactly where he'd dreamt it was! Down junior! He'd intended to stand Sam in the shower alone but realized that wasn't going to happen. Besides, he wasn't sure her injured leg could hold her.

Reaching behind her, Jack unsnapped her soiled bra with one hand. Well he hadn't lost his touch. Trying not to stare at what he'd wanted to for so long, he tossed the bra, and aimed Sam for the shower. They stepped beneath the hot spray of water, where he propped her face to the shower wall. Sam gasped then giggled.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself, Carter." He snatched up the foaming bottle of body wash and frowned. Dang, what he wouldn't give for a bar of Irish Spring. "Here," he squirted some in her hands, "Wash your umm, front." He waved a hand in the general direction.

"My thongggs in the way," she whined.

"And your point would be?" _Why had he asked_?

One tiny pink thong pooled at her feet.

His hand bracing her shoulder, a primitive growl erupted from Jack's throat. Geez, he didn't know how much more he could take as he watched her clumsy attempt with the sudsy washcloth. Oh, he could do better, but no way would he touch her there. He only cared that they got rid of the initial smell and out of her small shower. At least in his stall, they wouldn't be shoulder to shoulder. He let go of her and was relieved she seemed able to stand.

Lathering up his hands, Jack did a quick number on his chest and legs and then over his skivvies, before Carter announced, "Done."

She stumbled about on the wet tub floor until Jack caught her. He cursed as she slid about his arms like a slippery seal and turned to face him. He gulped at her sensuous beauty, and tried to focus on the mission. "Stand still, will ya!"

"Em," she insisted and fell into him.

"Okay, Jack, old man. You can do this," He ran his soapy hand up and down her slender arched back with her firm full breasts plastered against his chest. "Naked Sam, nooo, naked Hammond, naked Silar, naked Daniel, Tea'lc, naked . . ." He reached for the shampoo. No gross images worked this time. A distinct sexual desire locked and loaded in his groin. Crap!

"Are Danny and T naked too?"

While he worked the fragrant shampoo into her soiled hair, Jack muttered, "No, Carter. It's just us, and we're not naked!" _Well you are. I'm not. Long as I'm in my skivees we're not totally naked, right? Oh, man, this was such a court mar__tial offense!_

"Jaak, I luv ur silvery hair, luv how it," She hiccupped. "Never behaves, like ur chocolate eyeess, lost in 'em, ur devilish mouth grinning at meee. No more private grins, noo more strong armzz holdin' me, sleeping on ur shoulder." She hiccupped. "Misss u soooo much . . ."

Jack gulped. His heart rammed against his ribs. "Miss you too, Sam, a lot." _Stop this, Jack. She's drunk! Clueless about what she's saying. Yeah._

"Rinse!" he ordered and turned her so she could tip her head back into the water.

"'Kay." She dropped her shoulders and head back as the water cascaded through her blonde hair.

_Don't look!_ The heat of water and a naked emotional Carter was too much. He had to get out of here. Now! Before he could turn off the shower faucet and escape, Sam loped her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his her mouth brushing his lips.

"Hi." She smiled wickedly.

"Um . . .Hi," his voice cracked as he reached to dislodge her hold, that tightened firmer. He stopped fighting. Sam ground her breasts and pelvis against him. Jack let out a groan of near surrender.

"Hey, sirr, ur side arm's wet."

"Sure is," he growled, hoping she believed that's what was rubbing her. Jack began to wonder if she was more sober than she portrayed. Worse, he no longer trusted himself especially considering how strongly aroused he felt. "Car--ter?"

"Yess, Jack?" her voice slurred.

"We need to — get out now!"

"Noo." She nuzzled his neck her tongue lapped the water from his skin then dove into his right ear. _Oy! _

"Yesss." His shaking hand turned the shower faucet and ice cold water pummeled over them.

"Argh!" Sam screamed and then vaulted out of the shower. Jack stayed rooted, letting the water rush over him and southward. He leaned into the frigid water and thanked God he'd not done what he wanted. Kiss Carter and consummate a nearly four-year old marriage contract.

When he shut off the water, he found Sam had yanked a towel from the rack and huddled on the toilet seat staring at her feet.

"You okay?" he asked as if walking on glass.

"Ah, huh." She nodded, not looking at him. Obviously her head was clearing.

Jack stepped onto the bath rug and dried down. After securing a towel at his waist, he slid off his skivvies and opened her cabinet door. Finding the mouthwash, he poured some in a glass and offered it to her.

"I need this?" Her head still wobbled as she looked at him.

"Trust me."

She frowned, gargled and giving him a horrible look, swallowed. Yep, she wasn't as sober as she looked. "You're supposed to spit it out." He indicated the sink.

"Oh."

"Can you walk?" He hoped so.

She managed to stagger to her feet and then limped passed him. The towel she wore dipped down low on her slender back revealing her tempting curves. Jack thought they'd gotten through the worst, now he wasn't sure. He had to get her into bed. She almost stumbled by her bedroom, but he redirected her and ushered her inside.

No longer babbling, she turned and stood there like a lost child before him, tilting her head, her lips trembling, tears streaming down her pale face. "Oh, Jack . . ." She began to tremble hard. Her towel pooled around her feet.

He tried not to stare and drew her into his arms. "C'mere," he couldn't believe he was doing this, but wanted it more than anything. To hold Carter. No! Hold Sam. She clung to him like a lost child, a lost love, lost lover, confused, weeping in desperation.

His towel fell away. Jack slid his hands beneath her trembling knees, drew her into his arms and carried her to the bed. A moment later, they rolled beneath the covers and into each other's arms. Jack vowed she would at last be his, in body, heart and mind. Screw the freaking regs. She'd been his wife for over three years according to Chulak law. Now he didn't give a rip about Pete or anyone else.

"Sam," he kissed her wet cheek, kissed that mole under her left eye, then the one by her sweet mouth, wanting to head south for that other mole.

"Sir." She sniffed. "I'm so sorry . . ."

"That's alright, Babe." He curled up with her, remembering how well they fit together, how much he wanted her and needed her. Tipping his head he looked into her tearing eyes. "No sirs, tonight, Sam."

"Jack?"

"Yeah, just Jack."

She nodded and pressed against his hard maleness. "I cheated on u on us, I—"

"There was nothing to cheat on, Sam. We never consummated the marriage." He lied, even to himself.

"In my heart, Jack, we're married. In my heart . . . I love u."

"Yeah, in mine too." Jack's emotions spiraled out of control.

"U still love me?"

"Yes."

She sniffed a tear. "Wanna be forever okay again, Scarcrow."

"Me too, Dorothy."

"So tired . . . " She yawned into the crook of his arm. "Of all this, of not having u as my husband."

He sifted his trembling fingers through her wet golden hair and nuzzled her neck with his lips. "I know." He yawned, realizing just how tired he was of it too. She squirmed against him tighter, and Jack swallowed, prayed and summoned his disciplined reserve as he forced the heat beneath his waist to cool. Sam sounded more sober, but she not clearheaded enough to consent to making love. He would not be petty and take her in this inebriated state. His honorable heart wouldn't allow him. Sometimes being honorable sucked.

Sam awoke to the worst hangover in her life. Her sensitive senses awakened and she squinted into the semi-darkness. "Jack?" Her fingers slid across the rumpled bedding. She was alone. A shudder of heartbreaking loss tripped through her. Maybe she'd dreamt it. And yet . . . She lifted the used pillow beside her and drew it to her face. English Leather. She smiled faintly then frowned. He'd been with her during the night. But that's all she recalled. Fractured images flashed through her head's ache. Touching. . . Jack caressing her, holding her. Water. Why water?

The front door slammed and she eased off the bed to realize she was naked. Oy! All kinds of thoughts raced through her. The worst being they'd made love and she didn't remember! That got her mad, but not as mad she should be. Well, he'd just have to refresh her memory. A few minutes after relieving herself and splashing cold water on her face, Sam donned her blue BDU sweats. She then initiated baby steps into the bright morning light of her house and hugging the walls, managed to find the kitchen. Her cane rested against the counter top and she grabbed it for support.

"Sir?" She looked up at the blur of a man's body in front of the open refrigerator.

"Hi Sam." Daniel's all too cheerful face popped over the door and smiled.

"Huh?" She focused and cleared her throat. "What you doing here?"

"Fixing your breakfast."

Sam limped to a stool, held her aching head and muttered, "Not hungry."

"Ya will be." He grinned taking out the eggs and sausages. "I'm always famished after an all night drunk."

"Well, I wouldn't know, Daniel, this was a first for me in a good decade."

"Sure was." He snorted.

"Where's the Colonel?"

Daniel glanced over and frowned. "No doubt, still sleeping like most folks at 0700 on a Saturday morning."

"Where?" Confused she glimpsed her empty sofa that Daniel had supposedly occupied. The comforter hung exactly where she'd folded it the day before.

Daniel stopped and looked keenly at her. "Sam, Jack's at his house."

"He was here."

"Really?" Daniel donned his 'you're nuts' look.

Sam winced and insisted. "Last night."

"Last night, you got pissing drunk, Sam. Jack called me and asked if I'd go to O'Malley's and bring you home. I did. Been here all night." He failed to look her in the eye.

"No, Daniel, that's not how it went down." She felt confused, angry and sad at the same time.

"Yes it is, Sam." Daniel walked over and straddled the stool across from her and then brushed her messed hair from her blood-shot eyes. "That's how it must have happened, right?"

Sam cringed. They stared at each other and Sam realized what her friend and diplomat, was communicating. "Then he never came for me like I'd hoped and prayed he would?"

"No."

"You came instead?"

"Yes." Daniel's voice tightened. He was such a lousy liar.

"Because he still . . ." she couldn't will herself to ask.

"Cares." Daniel drew her trembling body into his to comfort her, "more than he should, Sam, a lot more. And you didn't hear this from me."

"You're a good friend, Daniel, to both of us."

"I try." He forced a smile and straightened his glasses. "He's so going to kill me —again."

"No, he won't. Because, you didn't tell me anything I didn't already know." She touched Daniel's tensed jaw. "Like you said, he wasn't here."

"If you say so." Obviously confused at Sam's double talk, Daniel shook his brown-haired head.

"I do." Nodding, Sam eased out of her friend's arms and smiled. She turned her head toward the open basement door. The dryer hummed.

"Oh, your clothes were soiled. Ja—umm—er I washed them. They're drying."

"Right. I'm going back to bed." She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Sure, Sam." Daniel smiled. "Teal'c's coming over later. Thought we'd grill out if you felt up to it, and then watch some movies."

"That'd be nice." She wanted to ask if Jack was coming. She doubted it. He wouldn't risk facing her now.

Using her cane, Sam limped back to her bedroom. She wished she hadn't gotten drunk. She couldn't recall what they'd talked about, if they'd talked, let alone what they did. Man, getting snookered had been the dumbest thing she could have done. Jack must think her an obnoxious idiot. How would she face him again? No doubt, he thought she was still seeing Pete romantically. Wrong. She hoped she'd mentioned that in her inebriated stupor.

The phone rang. Sam almost pick it up. Daniel got it first. She slowly lifted the receiver to listen.

"I want to speak with Sam." _Pete!_

"Sorry. She's not available."

"Who's this?"

Daniel hesitated. "Colonel O'Neill."

Sam held a hand over her mouth to block the sniggers.

"Why are you at Sam's house this early?"

"More like why you calling this early, Petty?"

"Name's Pete!"

"Whatever."

"I insist you put Sam on the phone."

"So not doing that, Petty."

"The name's Pete!"

"Samantha dumped you."

"Did not! Just got some issues to iron out."

"So do we and um, we're ironing as we speak," Daniel snickered.

Sam snorted. Whoops!

Pete gasped.

"So, Petty, doncha got some bad guys to chase? Gotta go now, iron's getting cold. And I'll tell Sam you called . . .eventually."

"Hey, you're not O'Neill—"

Daniel disconnected him. "Sam?"

Whoops! "Daniel?" She stared at her bedroom doorway that he occupied with the cordless phone and smirked as only Daniel could.

Sam set her phone down and blushed.

"So I pass inspection, Major?" He winked.

"Excellent." She laughed and then moaned when her head pounded like a brass drum. "You sounded more like Jack than Jack."

"Well the old crank tends to rub off on a personality after awhile."

"Sure does."

"Hey, get some shut eye." He closed her door before she could answer.

Sam crawled into bed, noticing other than Jack's cologne no other smells lingered on the sheets. They'd not made love. Cuddling his pillow to her chest she sighed peacefully as sleep washed over her. One more reason why as much as she'd tried to move on, Sam would always love Jack O'Neill above all others. He was forever honorable and faithful to her. Forever her safe bet. Always.

On the other side of town, Jack opened his closet and removed a garment box from behind his BDU's and dress blues. He set the box on his bed and removed the lid. Inside were a few items, including a picture of Sam laughing, and one of her cross-eyed and sticking out her tongue. A few team photos and the most important one, Jack and Sam on Chulak after they'd exchanged wedding vows. Kissing. Passionately! Who'd have thought Daniel would just happen to have a camera?

Jack sighed at that memory and then and picked up a few of the other items occupying the box. A stuffed Toto still held Sam's scent, and the white bowl from their mind-stamp experience Sam insisted that he keep. And of course, that infamous spoon he'd confiscated during one of their last commissary Jell-O debate he'd won. Other items that held symbolic intimate bonds between Jack and Sam filled his special box.

Reaching into his pocket, Jack removed the newest addition to his Carter memorabilia collection. Fingering the lacy items, a lopsided smile spread across O'Neill's face. He wondered if she'd missed them and if so, would she dare ask about—

Her matching set of a hot pink bra and thong.

Ya think?

Fin

Please read the next story in the Chosen Hearts Series, **Forever Okay.**


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